Lightspeed Magazine, Issue 143 (April 2022): Lightspeed Magazine, #143

By John Joseph Adams

LIGHTSPEED is a digital science fiction and fantasy magazine. In its pages, you will find science fiction: from near-future, sociological soft SF, to far-future, star-spanning hard SF--and fantasy: from epic fantasy, sword-and-sorcery, and contemporary urban tales, to magical realism, science-fantasy, and folktales. 

 

Welcome to issue 143 of LIGHTSPEED! This month, we return to Ashok K. Banker's Legends of the Burnt Empire series with their novella, "The History of Snakes"-a story so epic we'll be serializing over two weeks. Our other fantasy fiction includes a charming flash piece from Leah Cypess ("The Fairy Godmother Advice Column") and a reprint from Maurice Broaddus ("Dance of Bones"). Our first SF short is a story of climate change, violent apocalypse, and somehow the hope for healing. If you want your heart touched, don't miss "Everything the Sea Takes, it Returns" by Izzy Wasserstein. Phoebe Barton returns to our pages with the swashbuckling SF adventure "A Sword Has One Purpose," and Sandra McDonald dabbles in time travel in her flash story "Advice From The Civil Temporal Defense League." Our reprint this month is from Charlie Jane Anders ("The Day it All Ended"). Our interview team brings us spotlight interviews with our authors, and of course our crew of expert reviewers have provided their latest book recommendations. Our ebook readers will enjoy a book excerpt from KALYNA THE SOOTHSAYER, the debut novel by Elijah Kinch Spector.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Adamant Press
• Release date: Apr 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201072704

John Joseph Adams

John Joseph Adams is the series editor of The Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy and the editor of the Hugo Award–winning Lightspeed, and of more than forty anthologies, including Lost Worlds & Mythological Kingdoms, The Far Reaches, and Out There Screaming (coedited with Jordan Peele).

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Issue 143, April 2022

FROM THE EDITOR

Editorial: April 2022

SCIENCE FICTION

Advice from the Civil Temporal Defense League

Sandra McDonald

The Day It All Ended

Charlie Jane Anders

Everything the Sea Takes, It Returns

Izzy Wasserstein

A Sword Has One Purpose

Phoebe Barton

FANTASY

A History of Snakes, Part I

Ashok K. Banker

A History of Snakes, Part II

Ashok K. Banker

Dance of Bones

Maurice Broaddus

The Fairy Godmother Advice Column

Leah Cypess

EXCERPTS

Kalyna the Soothsayer

Elijah Kinch Spector

NONFICTION

Book Review: Siren Queen, by Nghi Vo

Aigner Loren Wilson

Book Review: Unlimited Futures, edited by Ismail and van Neerven

Arley Sorg

Book Review: The Memory Librarian, by Janelle Monáe

Chris Kluwe

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHTS

Ashok K. Banker

Izzy Wasserstein

Phoebe Barton

MISCELLANY

Coming Attractions

Stay Connected

Subscriptions and Ebooks

Support Us on Patreon, or How to Become a Dragonrider or Space Wizard

About the Lightspeed Team

Also Edited by John Joseph Adams

© 2022 Lightspeed Magazine

Cover by Grandfailure / Dreamstime

www.lightspeedmagazine.com

Published by Adamant Press

From_the_Editor

Editorial: April 2022

John Joseph Adams | 212 words

Welcome to Lightspeed’s 143rd issue!

This month, we return to Ashok K. Banker’s Legends of the Burnt Empire series with their novella, The History of Snakes—a story so epic we’ll be serializing over two weeks. Our other fantasy fiction includes a charming flash piece from Leah Cypess (The Fairy Godmother Advice Column) and a reprint from Maurice Broaddus (Dance of Bones).

Our first SF short is a story of climate change, violent apocalypse, and somehow the hope for healing. If you want your heart touched, don’t miss Everything the Sea Takes, it Returns by Izzy Wasserstein. Phoebe Barton returns to our pages with the swashbuckling SF adventure A Sword Has One Purpose, and Sandra McDonald dabbles in time travel in her flash story Advice From The Civil Temporal Defense League. Our reprint this month is from Charlie Jane Anders (The Day it All Ended).

Our interview team brings us spotlight interviews with our authors, and of course our crew of expert reviewers have provided their latest book recommendations. Our ebook readers will enjoy a book excerpt from Kalyna the Soothsayer, the debut novel by Elijah Kinch Spector.

It’s another terrific issue—and thanks for joining us at the speed of light!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

John Joseph Adams is the series editor of Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy and is the bestselling editor of more than thirty anthologies, including Wastelands and The Living Dead. Recent books include A People’s Future of the United States, Wastelands: The New Apocalypse, and the three volumes of The Dystopia Triptych. Called the reigning king of the anthology world by Barnes & Noble, John is a two-time winner of the Hugo Award (for which he has been a finalist twelve times) and an eight-time World Fantasy Award finalist. John is also the editor and publisher of Lightspeed and is the publisher of its sister-magazines, Fantasy and Nightmare. For five years, he ran the John Joseph Adams Books novel imprint for Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. Find him online at johnjosephadams.com and @johnjosephadams.

Science_Fiction

Advice from the Civil Temporal Defense League

Sandra McDonald | 1451 words

Do

Be Aware of Strangers Who Ask You What Day It It.

Be Aware of Strangers Who Ask You What Year It Is.

Be Aware of Stunned Looking Strangers Who Murmur Mom? in The Squeeze-In Diner When You Stop By After School For a Chocolate Malt, Though Clearly You Have Never Given Birth to Them or to Anyone At All, Thank You Very Much.

Be Aware of Strangers Wearing Clothing, Footwear, or Accessories That Seem Just A Few Years Out of Fashion or Incongruent With the Season, Climate, or Weather Forecast, or Perhaps Not Gender Appropriate Because No Woman Needs to Wear Trousers Anyway, or Who Are Not Wearing Their Mandatory Orange Chrono Radiation Badges.

BE ON ALERT At All Times for TIME TRAVELER Arrivals, Especially In Empty Parking Lots, in Poorly Lit Alleys, or On Sparsely Traveled Roads Like Old Highway Seventeen Just Outside Town. Signs that a TIME TRAVELER Might Be Arriving:

Unexpected Flashes of Bright Light, Sometimes With A Dramatic Strobing Effect;

Unexpected Gusts of Wind Stirring Trash Along the Sidewalk or Against A Chain Link Fence Like The Kind You Can Purchase At The Feed & Seed From Earl Hynes, Chairman of Our Very Own Civil Temporal Defense League;

Unexpected Noises Indicating A Sudden Explosion of Energy, A Change of Temporal Pressure, and/or A Gate Opening Between Worlds That Will Inevitably Lead To Chaos and Tragedy Such as That Time Betty Newell’s Grandson Sired Betty’s Grandmother And All Hell Broke Loose.

Be Aware of Strangers Who Stand In Telephone Booths By The Side of Highway 17 With Perplexed Expressions and/or Rip Pages Out Of Phone Books And Now The Next Person Can’t Find The Listing for Betty Newell, Thanks So Much.

Be Aware of Strangers Who Hitch A Ride Into Town With The Milkman And Ask Where Is The USB Port Because Their Battery is Almost Dead Even Though They Thought They Put It On Airplane Mode.

Be Aware of Strangers Who Gaze at The Picturesque Town Square as If They’ve Seen It Before But Somewhat Different, Who Ask for Something Called A Frappuccino No Whip From Your Aunt Doreen at The Squeeze-In Diner, Who Seem Surprised By Pictures of President Adlai Stevenson in The Morning Newspaper, Who Try to Play Elvis Presley’s song Funny How Time Slips Away On The Jukebox Without Inserting a Nickel First, And Who Seem Even More Surprised to Learn that Corporal Elvis Presley Died in That Tragic Accident at Fort Hood in Texas And Your Aunt Doreen Will Never Get Over It.

Be Aware of Strangers Who Follow You Home from The Squeeze-In Diner and Wait Until Your Dad Goes off to His Night Shift at the Hospital and Wander Up Your Driveway to Your Kitchen Door and Then Call Your New Puppy By The Name You Just Decided on A Few Minutes Ago.

Be Sure You Don’t Think His Sad Smile Is So Oddly Familiar That You Take Pity on This Lost Stranger and Invite Him in for Lemonade and You Always Did Follow Your Heart, Mary-Ann Newkirk, Even When You Should be Following Your Head.

Be Concerned When He Squints at Common Household Devices (Transistor Radio, Stereo Console, Television Receiver) as if He’s Wandered Into a Museum Instead of Your Dad’s Living Room and Reaches a Reverent Finger Toward the Framed Photograph of You and Tommy Hardy at the Senior Prom, Both of You So Happy in Your Formal Wear and Silver Chrono Helmets.

Be Especially Wary When He Apologizes to You with Vague Details but Heartfelt Emotion About Something He Says You Will Some Day Understand, Who Gives You a Gold Locket That Looks Just Like the One You Gave Tommy Before He Shipped Off in the Army to West Germany Back in August, and Who Leaves Abruptly With Tear-filled Eyes and a Vow to Fix What Has Been Broken.

Isn’t It Curious That His Eyes Are the Same Beautiful Blue-Green Color as Tommy’s?

Isn’t It Strange That Tommy Hasn’t Written Back Since He Went To West Germany?

REPORT THAT SUSPICIOUS STRANGER IMMEDIATELY TO THE DEFENSE LEAGUE, Mary-Ann.

IMMEDIATELY AFTER THAT, Escort Yourself to the League Offices for Your Mandatory Debriefing, Chrono Radiation Evaluation, and Temporal Scrub Down.

Don’t

Don’t Wait Until A TEMPORAL EMERGENCY Happens to Know What To Do and Who To Call.

Don’t Try To Warn Your Future or Past Selves. They Never Listen.

Don’t Go Into The Streets During The Emergency, Which Will Probably Be Announced on All Radio Frequencies Long Before It Actually Occurs Because Cause and Effect Don’t Work During a TEMPORAL EMERGENCY, Didn’t They Teach You That in School?

Don’t Go Looking for a Safer Shelter. During a TEMPORAL EMERGENCY, No Place Is Truly Safe from The Five Threat Categories of Time Disruption: Discrepancies, Oddities, Disruptions, Paradoxes, and Shenanigans. Hiding In a Root Cellar Won’t Save Your Timeline from Cracking, Snapping, and Fracturing as The Universe Itself Realigns.

Instead, Find Comfort in a Place That Is Familiar and Cozy, Like the Cedar-Lined Closet in the Hallway That Henry Newkirk Built for His Bride Alice Back When They Were Young and Madly In Love, Long Before the Chrono-Cancer Stole Her Years and Ovaries and Thyroid Function, Before She Took to Bed and Faded, Faded, Faded Away While Her Husband and Daughter Watched Helplessly.

Don’t Hesitate to Subdue a Suspected TIME TRAVELER By Any Means Necessary and Make a Civil Arrest Until Enforcers from the Civil Temporal Defense League Can Arrive. Aunt Doreen’s Boyfriend Ray Will Catch a TIME TRAVELER In His Garage Next Christmas Eve and after Christmas Dinner We All Will Enjoy The Execution in Our Picturesque Town Square. Thank You In Advance to Ray for The Exemplary Civil Service and to Our Very Own Earl Hynes for Providing the Bullets.

Don’t Go Looking For Answers in Dusty City Records, in Dusty Books on Dusty Library Shelves, or in Dusty Archives in Civil Temporal Defense League Closets.

Dust Never Leads to Clarity.

Trust Us.

After All, Dust Is Barely Sentient. It Is Mostly Tiny Bits of Debris From Everyone and Everything That Has Ever Existed or Will Exist, or Maybe Existed in a Corrupted Timeline Where Eisenhower Was Elected or Corporal Elvis Presley Reported to Duty in a U.S. Army Secret Temporal Laboratory in West Germany Instead of the Our Correct and Absolutely Perfect Timeline, where Tommy Hardy Reported Instead And No Don’t Ask Us More Unless You Want a Visit from the Enforcers.

Speaking of the Enforcers, Mary-Ann, Mrs. Earl Hynes Happened To Be Driving Down The Street in Her Cadillac and Saw What Might Be a TIME TRAVELER Walking up Your Driveway. Fearful for Your Safety, She Has Alerted The Civil Temporal Defense League.

Don’t Jump on Your Bicycle and Race After the Stranger with Tommy’s Eyes.

Don’t Catch Up to Him in the Alley by The Squeeze-In Diner and Grab His Sleeve and Beg Him to Take You Where He’s Going in Order to Save Tommy, Your One True Love.

Don’t Watch Your Alternate-Timeline Son Take a Time Traveling Device from His Pocket and Deftly Activate It. Time Travel Devices Might Take a Variety of Appearances:

A Metallic Orb with a Steampunk Vibe that Emits a Mysterious Light;

A Doorway, Glowing or Darkened, that Clearly Was Not There a Moment Ago;

A Phone Booth Of Dubious Origin;

A Futuristic Automobile Unlike Any You Have Ever Seen Before, But Certainly Not as Affordable as Those Sold by our Own Earl Hynes at His New Dealership near Route Seventeen.

DON’T BE SELFISH, Mary-Ann. Yes, Tommy Has a Good Soul and You Love Him Dearly. Still, How Important Is One Life Weighed Against the Correct and Absolutely Perfect Timeline? You Can’t Just Go Mucking Around Time Propelled by Grief and Your Heart’s Desire. Where Will the Madness End? Would You Keep Stevenson from the White House to Keep the Secret Temporal Laboratory in West Germany from Being Built? Would You Save Elvis so that He Reports to West Germany Instead of Your Tommy?

Would You Save Your Mother? Remember, She Always Wanted You to Date Betty Newell’s Grandson Instead.

Who’s to Say The World Will Be Better off When You’re Done with Your Meddling?

True, Your Tommy Accidentally Triggered the Explosion in The Secret Temporal Laboratory that Threw the World into the Chaos We Face Today. Preventing That Would Save a Universe of Grief.

For Some Of Us.

Yet as Earl Hynes Likes To Say in Our Meetings, Time’s a Mess But It’s OUR Mess.

The Civil Temporal Defense League Will Protect You All. Whether You Want Us to or Not.

Besides, We’ve Seen Elvis Perform. It Was Shameful.

Long Live Time Travel.

©2022 by Sandra McDonald.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Four of Sandra McDonald’s stories have been noted on the Tiptree Award Honor List, and her collection Diana Comet and Other Impossible Stories was a Booklist Editor’s Choice and ALA Over the Rainbow book. She is the author of The Outback Stars series of SF adventures, the Fisher Key mysteries for LGBTQ young adults, and stories that have appeared in Asimov’s, Strange Horizons, Clarkesworld, Beyond Binary and War and Space: Recent Combat as well other magazines and anthologies. Once upon a time she was Hollywood assistant who worked at CBS Television and Disney Studios.  Visit her at sandramcdonald.com.

The Day It All Ended

Charlie Jane Anders | 3760 words

Bruce Grinnord parked aslant in his usual spot and ran inside the DiZi Corp. headquarters. Bruce didn’t check in with his team or even pause to glare at the beautiful young people having their toes stretched by robots while they sipped macrobiotic goji-berry shakes and tried to imagine ways to make the next generation of gadgets cooler looking and less useful. Instead, he sprinted for the executive suite. He took the stairs two or three at a time, until he was so breathless he feared he’d have a heart attack before he even finished throwing his career away.

DiZi’s founder, Jethro Gruber—Barrons’ Young Visionary of the Year five years running—had his office atop the central spire of the funhouse castle of DiZi’s offices, in a round glass turret. Looking down on the employee oxygen bar and the dozen gourmet cafeterias. If you didn’t have the key to the private elevator, the only way up was this spiral staircase, which climbed past a dozen Executive Playspaces, and any one of those people could cockblock you before you got to Jethro’s pad. But nobody seemed to notice Bruce charging up the stairs, fury twisting his round face, even when he nearly put his foot between the steps and fell into the Moroccan Spice Café.

Bruce wanted to storm into Jethro’s office and shout his resignation in Jethro’s trendy schoolmaster glasses. He wanted to enter the room already denouncing the waste, the stupidity, of it all—but when he reached the top of the staircase, he was so out of breath, he could only wheeze, his guts wrung and cramped. He’d only been in Jethro’s office once before: an elegant goldfish bowl with one desk that changed shape (thanks to modular pieces that came out of the floor), a few chairs, and one dot of maroon rug at its center. Bruce stood there, massaging his dumb stomach and taking in the oppressive simplicity.

So Jethro spoke first, the creamy purr Bruce knew from a million company videos. Hi, Bruce. You’re late.

I’m . . . I’m what?

You’re late, Jethro said. You were supposed to have your crisis of conscience three months ago. He pulled out his Robo-Bop and displayed a personal calendar, which included one entry: Bruce Has a Crisis of Conscience. It was dated a few months earlier. What kept you, man?

• • • •

It started when Bruce took a wrong turn on the way to work. Actually, he drove to the wrong office—the driving equivalent of a Freudian slip.

He was on the interstate at seven thirty, listening to a banjo solo that he hadn’t yet learned to play. Out his right window, every suburban courtyard had its own giant ThunderNet tower, just like the silver statue in Bruce’s own cul-de-sac—the sleek concave lines and jetstreamed base like a 1950s googie space fantasy. To his left, almost every passing car had a Car-Dingo bolted to its hood, with its trademark sloping fins and whirling lights. And half the drivers were listening to music, or making Intimate Confessions on their Robo-Bops. Once on the freeway, Bruce could see much larger versions of the ThunderNet tower dotting the landscape, from shopping-mall roofs as well as empty fields. Plus everywhere he saw giant billboards for DiZi’s newest product, the Crado—empty-faced, multicultural babies splayed out in a milk-white, egg-shaped chair that monitored the baby’s air supply and temperature in some way that Bruce still couldn’t explain.

Bruce was a VP of marketing at DiZi—shouldn’t he be able to find something